by Simon Lister
‘I’m sure that the order was given in case of any Adren incursions,’ Vosper quickly said, desperately wanting to take a step away from the peril he faced.
‘Was it Kane who placed Seren under guard?’ Arthur asked staring at Vosper.
‘I don’t know, perhaps – he is the commander of security in the city but I don’t know.’
Arthur took a step past Vosper clearly intent on going to the city. Vosper took a deep breath and abandoned himself to his fate. ‘You must not enter the city, Arthur. To do so alone would certainly mean your death.’
Arthur turned to face him and Vosper saw the coldness in the barbarian’s eyes and genuinely thought he was about to die but as he faced Arthur they all heard a horn being blown from the Briton camp on the hill. Arthur took his eyes from Vosper’s and looked back into the depths of the wood before turning his gaze to the direction of the camp.
‘The Adren army is on the move. They’ll come directly to the Veiled City. Make what preparations you can and I’ll meet you back here in a few days’ time.’
The Cithol watched with relief as the Warlord of Britain turned his back on the Veiled City and headed back through the trees to the encampment on the hill.
*
When he reached the copse he found that Morveren had ridden back into the camp and was standing surrounded by a small group that included Gwyna, Gereint and Hengest. He made his way over to them and Morveren saw him approaching.
‘The Adren are beginning to move out from their camp.’
‘You have patrols shadowing them?’
‘Yes but it looks like they’re heading straight for the Westway, and here.’
‘How do they even know where the Westway is or where it leads?’ Hengest asked, both relieved that the enemy seemed to have no interest in the abandoned Anglian villages to their north and aghast that it appeared they knew exactly where to go to find the Veiled City. No one answered his question.
‘There’s still no sign that they have any mounted soldiers?’ Arthur asked.
‘We haven’t seen any yet, other than some of their captains. They’re all on foot,’ Morveren answered.
‘Then it will take them a few days to reach here,’ Gereint said as much to himself as the others.
‘Gwyna, make sure the message gets to your people to make for Caer Sulis immediately and make sure they leave nothing behind them. Whatever food they can’t carry must be burnt or spoiled. Ceinwen, send word to Caer Sulis and Caer Cadarn that the Adren will be attacking the Veiled City within a few days. Everyone at Caer Sulis must be prepared to make for the Haven. Then gather up the warriors and we’ll show the Adren what happens to an army that marches on foot.’
Messengers left for the North and West with the news that the Causeway had fallen and to spread the word for those still in the country to make for Caer Sulis. The wounded had been laid out on the wains and Ceinwen had made them as comfortable as possible before they began their arduous journey back to Caer Sulis.
Gereint watched them leave then turned his attention to his Mercian warriors who were already donning their war gear and re-supplying themselves with fresh bags of arrows from the camp store. He had not issued any orders but he realised he had no need to now for they were automatically taking their orders from Arthur.
Hengest was standing nearby handing out the long ash spears that the Anglian riders carried into battle. Gereint made his way over to him and when there was a gap in the line said, ‘So, we’re going to ride back and launch ourselves at the Adren army again?’
‘Looks like it,’ Hengest replied, bending down to cut the tie around another bundle of spears.
‘Madness.’
Hengest straightened up and with a quick glance at Gereint began handing out the spears again.
‘It’s madness. He’s acting like the demented king he killed. He’s under some illusion he’s leading an army!’ Gereint said looking around at the mounting warriors.
Hengest turned to face him with a smile, ‘Someone’s got to do it and as we’re the only army hereabouts...’ He shrugged and once more began handing out the long spears, ‘Want one?’
Gereint snatched the offered weapon and briefly thought of breaking it over his knee but the ash pole was as thick as his wrist and the only likely outcome of such a gesture would be a bruised knee. Instead he spat in the grass to show his disgust and strode off to his horse.
Arthur was already mounted and trying to keep his horse under control as he led the first of the warriors out of the hilltop camp. Morveren was just behind him and watched Arthur’s efforts with exasperation.
‘I should give him riding lessons,’ she said shaking her head and the warriors nearby laughed as Arthur turned and pointed a warning finger at her.
‘You can give me riding lessons,’ Morgund said wistfully and Morveren blushed as the others laughed again. Balor saw the blush and crowed. Before long he had started up a variation of an Anglian rowing song that revolved around the question of what should be done with a drunken woman. She took it with good grace and, much to Morgund’s delight, even joined in the repetitive chorus despite its obscene references to herself. The singing lasted for a few miles before Arthur broke it up by sending Morveren off to find and round up the patrols and to ascertain exactly how far the Adren army had progressed along the Westway.
No one had seen the war band when it had left the Causeway and no one watched them now but if anyone had then they would not have recognised them as the same band of warriors.
Chapter Two
Arthur watched the Adren army from a belt of trees that crowned a rise to the North of the Westway. Morveren had gathered the scattered patrols that had kept an eye on the army’s progress and brought them back to the main body of Arthur’s warriors. The Adren had advanced fifty or so miles into Britain and they had kept to the Westway as it crossed the rolling countryside of the southeast. Their numbers darkened the broad roadway for as far as the eye could see and Morveren estimated that the column was over ten miles long and that there were at least forty thousand of the enemy advancing towards the Veiled City.
Arthur had called forward Gwyna, Gereint and Hengest and together they stood in the shade of the trees and discussed the best way to attack the column. Arthur had initially wanted to make straight for their supply train, which was situated towards the rear of the long line, but Morveren had already informed them that the enemy had anticipated such an attack and had concentrated a large part of their strength around the wagons that carried their food and supplies. She had also reported that the Adren still kept a base on the cliffs above the Causeway and that they had stationed another five thousand soldiers there to protect their supply lines.
Arthur discounted his plan to attack the Adren supplies on the basis that such an assault would result in a pitched battle on open ground and even with their advantage of being on horseback the possibility of being hemmed in and suffering heavy casualties was unacceptable. Hengest was still arguing in favour of launching an attack upon the rear of the column and Gwyna was tending to agree with him despite Gereint restating the inherent dangers of such a plan. Arthur let them discuss the issue for a few more minutes as he finalised the plan they would implement.
‘Gereint’s right. We have to destroy their supplies but now is not the right time. An opportunity will present itself later. Our advantage of speed and mobility will be lost if we are drawn into hand-to-hand fighting. This is what we’ll do.’ Arthur knelt down and outlined his plan in the dirt beneath the trees.
Ten minutes later he was leading the horsemen of the southern tribes westwards to cut across the Westway out of sight from the Adren. Once they had crossed the road they rode south for a few miles before wheeling around and stopping in a fold in the land that hid them from anyone travelling on the Westway. Arthur sent Morveren off to keep a watch on the Adren’s progress and to report back when the first ranks had passed by their position.
Arthur knew they had about half an hour t
o wait so he went between the various groups of Mercians, Anglians and Wessex and told them all the same message: hit the Adren line at a full charge and to keep going. Most of the warriors carried the long handled Anglian spears, which were the ideal weapons for what was planned. A few, like Balor and Arthur, preferred to use their own weapons but all the warriors had been trained how to use the spears on horseback and many of them were now practising the routine that had been drummed into them; how to lower the spear and hold it so that the full power and speed of the horse’s charge was transferred into the target and how to flick it free once it had struck the enemy.
Morgund was going through the same motions with an easy rhythm. He recalled one of his instructors from years ago acknowledging that sometimes the spear was wrenched from your grasp and that it was better to lose it rather than break your wrist or be dragged from your horse. He imparted his wisdom to Ceinwen who looked at him as if he was an idiot. Undeterred he turned to Balor and gave him the same advice. Balor pointed out he was not carrying a spear and swung his war axe in a full circle to emphasis he had no need for such refined additions or techniques. Morgund shrugged and nudged his horse onwards clearly committed to tell everyone what his instructor had once told him.
Finally Morveren rode back into the fold and told Arthur that the head of the Adren column had passed their position.
Arthur turned to the warriors, ‘Mercians on the left, Anglians on the right. Charge straight through. Don’t stop.’
He dug his heels into his horse’s flanks and led the warriors out of the fold and onto the open grassland. Behind him the Mercians and Anglians spread out to the flanks and the horses picked up speed.
It was a clear day and the rising sun was already shining down brightly and warming the land. The Adren on the Westway could have seen them the second they left the fold but it was more likely to have been the thundering echo in the ground that first alerted them to the Britons’ charge.
Arthur’s horse, despite his minimal control over it, was one of the fastest and he stayed at the head of the charge as they rapidly covered the ground to the Westway. He could see the Adren directly ahead hastily trying to shape up into defensive positions and he urged his horse to go faster. Morveren was just behind him and out of the corner of his vision he could see horses to his left and right as they edged forward and backward in a tight charging line.
The nearer they got to the Westway the quicker they seemed to be covering the ground and Arthur studied the forming Adren line ahead of him as best as he could from the galloping horse. Taking one hand from the reins he drew his sword and leaned slightly to the right preparing for the moment of impact. His horse began to angle right too and he corrected the swerve as he charged up the slope to the roadway and seconds later he crashed into the unready Adren.
All along the Briton line the spears dipped at the last second and the battle cries were drowned out as the horses smashed into the Adren. Arthur’s horse charged straight over two of the enemy and he hacked at the head of a third and suddenly he was on the downward slope on the other side of the Westway. He carried straight on and looked over his shoulder to see that the other riders were doing the same. Behind them was a gap in the Adren line about two hundred yards wide and filled with the broken bodies of the enemy.
Adren soldiers were streaming after them from either end of the smashed line and Arthur and the others slowed their pace as they veered off to the right of the tree-lined rise from which they had watched the Adren advance on the Westway.
When Arthur heard the war cries of the Uathach and felt the ground reverberating to their own charge he reined in his horse and turned about. The Uathach were streaming from the far side of the rise and wheeling around to charge into the flank of the pursuing Adren. Once they had passed through the Adren Arthur led the Britons on a last charge back through the carnage of those that had been chasing them.
The Adren captains had finally managed to stop their soldiers breaking ranks and as the Britons finished the slaughter in the fields off to their right they formed back into a column and marched onwards.
Over the next two days Arthur continually harried the flanks of the Adren column. Three more charges on different sections of the column resulted in the same slaughter but on the last of those charges the Adren had been better prepared to stand against the charging horses and a fourth attack would have resulted in more serious losses for the Britons.
Arthur decided to change tactics and brought his warriors to within two hundred yards of the enemy line where they dismounted to loose volleys from their longbows. Two hundred yards was beyond the Adren archers’ range so their captains would organise a thousand strong contingent to break away from the column and advance upon the Britons who would simply mount up and ride a mile or two further along and repeat the process. All the time the Adren were losing soldiers to the Britons’ spears and longbows but throughout each charge and throughout each attack from the hated bowmen they kept marching onwards and mile by mile they drew nearer to the Winter Wood.
Morgund likened the Adren army to a beast too intent upon its prey to be bothered by the hornet that stung its flanks and it surprised no one to see that the Adren were prepared to lose hundreds to the Briton attacks so long as they kept on moving towards their goal: the Veiled City.
*
Seren and Terrill sat opposite each other at the long table in Lord Venning’s council room. They were alone and the guards who had brought them there now stood outside the barred double doors. It was the first time they had seen each other since being taken prisoner by Commander Kane’s guards as they had approached the city.
‘What have you told them?’ Seren asked quietly, leaning forward across the table.
Terrill’s eyes were drawn to her hands that fidgeted constantly on top of the table.
‘Nothing,’ he replied, then leaned towards her and dropped his voice, ‘but I managed to speak to Vosper briefly. He promised to watch the hill in case Arthur made it there.’
Seren cast her eyes downwards and stared at her hands. She seemed oblivious to their constant twitching. Neither she nor Terrill actually knew for sure if Arthur and the others had been able to escape from the Adren trap on the Causeway. Seren had left the cliff top convinced that the charge led by the wild Uathach girl would clear a path for Arthur and the Britons and make their retreat possible but doubt had stolen into her mind during the long hours of her solitary confinement and now she was far from certain that the escape was as inevitable as she had once thought it to be.
‘Arthur and the others would have made it back up the cliffs,’ Terrill said softly, correctly guessing her thoughts and trying to reassure her. He was alarmed by her appearance; wan, grey bands shadowed her eyes and her already slight frame seemed much thinner. He feared she might be in danger of losing her child and, before he could stop the thought, wondered if that might not be a good thing. He snapped his eyes away from her in guilt but Seren was staring vacantly at the table with her head bowed and guessed nothing of his thoughts.
They both turned their heads as the bolt slid from the door and it swung open. Seren moaned softly as Commander Kane stalked into the room followed by her father. The door shut behind them and Lord Venning took a seat at the table. Kane remained standing with his pale red eyes fixed on Seren.
‘You went to the Causeway to warn the Britons about the tunnel,’ Kane stated.
‘Yes.’ Seren’s shoulders seemed to sag as she answered quietly still staring at the table.
‘And did you warn them?’
‘Yes,’ she replied again.
‘Fools! Both of you!’ Kane turned away in disgust.
‘Did you tell them all you know?’ Lord Venning asked.
‘We only told them of the tunnel,’ Terrill replied.
‘You realise that Arthur will only lead the Adren here?’ Lord Venning asked in a tired voice.
‘And that he’ll fight them here and condemn the whole city and its people to destr
uction?’ Kane was almost shouting at them.
‘The Adren would have come here anyway. Lazure would have destroyed us. Now we have a chance to defend ourselves.’ Seren said the words automatically and without any passion. She held her gaze on the surface of the table.
Kane stormed across to her and stood behind her, bending down so that his face was close to the back of her head. ‘Defend ourselves? How? We had a pact with Lazure! He’ll think we betrayed him and now we’re doomed like every other race that has tried to stand against his armies and all because some stupid girl got pregnant with a barbarian’s child and pregnant with stupid ideas of freedom and fighting. I should kill you now but I want to see your face as you watch the Adren slaughter the women and children of the Veiled City! And every grisly death and every tortuous moment of pain of every single Cithol will be because of you!’
Seren physically cringed under the assault and when Kane had finished and turned away once more she looked to her father. Terrill saw her face and it was the look of a child imploring a parent for help.
‘You have damned us,’ Lord Venning said. ‘Our only hope is that Arthur and his warriors die and die quickly. We have one hope to persuade Lazure that we had nothing to do with Arthur’s actions and that we still hold true to our word.’
Terrill shot to his feet, ‘Lazure would destroy you whether or not you had a treaty! There is still time to fight, to organise a defence of the city!’
‘Fool! Surrender is our only hope now!’ Commander Kane shouted back at him and then called for the guards. Terrill was led away struggling and still shouting but Seren had to be helped up from her chair. As she walked slowly from the room between two guards she turned and said quietly, ‘Arthur and the Britons will come. If you won’t save the city, they will.’
*
